So, my friend connected with a man who used to be mine. I loved him,
thought he loved me. But that is neither here nor there. What I am
concerned about is why does my friend keep informing me of her
encounters with him? I am not sure ever what to do with this
information. Do I inquire about him? Do I ignore all conversation about
him? Do I ask leading questions? Or do I finally just send him a
message of facebook. Shit, I am tired of all of this cloak and dagger
business. I am married and I am happy to be married. I don't want to
fuck up my marriage. This guy is not worth it, but I swear my curiosity
is threatening to get the best of me. Curiosity killed the cat,
curiosity killed the cat...I must not forget this.
But still I wonder what is going on with me? Why do I long for
information about his well being, why do I search the internet for
information on his doings, his success? He didn't want me, so why do I
care now? Stupid ass! Girl wake up and move on, now. He is dangerous
for you remember that. Remember!
i'm fluctuating between sad/tired/overwhelmed to seeing the positive out
of this break up. i'm still wondering whats going to happen, wondering
if i'm strong enough, wondering if i'm brave enough, wondering when i'm
going to stop crying. terrified beyond belief because now my world is
not what it is and i have to just be okay with that. i struggle with it
moment by moment and i want to more often than not take a sedative and
go to sleep for a really long time. no magical solution for anything.
ugh.
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_____________________________________________
Pathetic Next Door Neighbor.
The last several years have been a bitch. The last week has been a
bitch. Last night was bitch. I have a love hate relationship with my
neighbor. By day she is my unemployed depressed friend. By night, she
is the most insensitive self absorbed pathetic nicotine addict ever.
Every night between 12 and 1, she clomps down the stairs of her
apartment, wooden shoes to concrete, starts her car, drives around the
corner, which does not amount to a block buys cigarettes and comes
back. For her, this is mindless routine, for me it is a rude
awakening. Each and every night! Bitch, haven’t you heard of Costco?
Buy a fucking carton. Hell, at this point, I’ll buy you a carton or a
case for that matter. Last night, out of necessity, I parked in the
driveway, hoping she would somehow break the pattern. Wrong, and at
1:30 she’s frantically calling me then beating on my window to move my
car- in the middle of the fucking night- so she can go buy her
cigarettes. If ever there were a pathetic case, this is it. By the
way, she does sometimes go midday to buy cigarettes, but she is always
only dressed in sweatpants and a robe. Who does that? One day, she
left and the sweatpants were blood-stained. I know I am supposed to
have nothing but compassion for this person who is clearly depressed,
but this shit is ridiculous. Oh and my period is late which is fucking
hilarious considering I haven’t had sex in almost a year. What gives?
So maybe this is my PMS being late too. Maybe on another day it
wouldn’t be so bad, but at this moment, I hate her because she woke me
up in the middle of the night and I woke up on the wrong side of the
bed- and it’s her fault. Pathetic Bitch!
I kicked him out and now SHE won't leave her husband
SO many changes in the past few months. I never would have dreamed a
year ago my life would be so different. 11yrs of marriage, 3 children,
and I was a stay at home mom. Now I am separated with divorce papers
sitting on my desk for 2 weeks waiting for me to sign them. It was me
that kicked him out. I got tired of all the lies, the games, the dismal
future. I got the kids I wanted from my marriage. I got to stay home
with them while they were small. Now I am living in this big old
country farm house with just my kids and me. My husband is 4 states
away and has not sent a dime to help take care of the kids. Although he
has a good job up there now. My girlfriend only complicates things even
more. I knew she would not leave her husband. I didn't expect her to. He
is a nice guy anyway. But she says she wants to be with me and how will
our cats all get along if she moves in. Yet I go for a week without
seeing her and spend holidays, weekends, and other important times all
alone. Without her anyway. I was NOT supposed to fall in love with her.
I hate myself for doing that. Because now I sit and wonder what shes
doing tonight. Why I have to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace
alone. Go to bed each night without her. I am a FIRM believer in self
strength and sufficiency. I need my time to heal. Fergie sings to me
daily, and several times as I have her set on repeat-Big Girls Don't
Cry... I know I can make it. I just don't know what the future holds.
And who wants to hire a mom that's been at home raising kids for the
past 10yrs. Apparently no one. I cant pay my bills and if I don't make
one payment in particular very soon, I will lose our home. It's just
very scary...and I feel SO alone. I really need a friend. Words can
hurt you but they can also heal you. And writing is my outlet. Even tho
I'm certain this will go unread-that's okay. I didn't write it for the
purpose of attention or being noticed. I wrote it to release. To let
go. To take a deep breath and feel better after I hit submit. I'm so
thankful my yahoo search for "strong women living on their own" brought
me here. Thank you stranger, your no longer a stranger anymore :)
Me...
a friend of my ex "boyfriend" told me she heard from him recently.
he's married with kids now and so am I so what do I care. I am happily
married woman with beautiful offspring. But i could not help the
saddness I felt when I heard he was divorcing his wife, the hopefulness
that appeared out of no where. Hopeful? for what? He made his decision
years ago which made me make my decision to move on. I never got over
that feeling of a love lost. I just buried it under "que sera, sera"
and kept it moving. My heart aches for him. My subconcious betrays me
some nights with encounters and passionate kisses and love making that
is out of this world. Those dreams make me feel guilty, dirty and
leave me wanting more. I am happily married to a wonderful man. What
am I doing? Why is this thing not over? Why am I still being tortured
by his smile, the feel of him, his kindness in my dreams? Why? This
could destroy my marriage, I feel like I am being dishonest, cheating
in my mind when I am sleeping and not in control of what I do. I like
that world, I like being his woman. I like dreaming of him looking for
me trying to reconnect with me, wanting me. I often wonder when fate
will work its magic have us at our mutual friend's home at the same
time??? What will I do then? I hope I never find out.
I was talking with a girlfriend last night.She’s in a spiritual masters program and is really blossoming into her own truth.It’s beautiful to witness and is a blessing to have in my life.We can talk about most anything and we often do.
We got on the subject of boyfriends with my simple two questions, ‘how’s Frank? And more importantly, how are you and Frank?’She just got back home yesterday from a 5 day trip back east to celebrate Mother’s Day as well as her mom’s birthday.She became aware that she has roots back east.It
felt good to know that everyone she encountered there was supporting
her and that she was already the star she’s trying to be in their minds
as opposed to out here in L.A. where she’s just another 36 year old black actress who hasn’t yet been discovered.So when the ‘how’s Frank?’ question came up, she sighed some.
‘Tell me’, I said.
In
her heart of hearts, I sense that she knows he is not the right one for
her, that there is someone better suited to be her mate, but she’s
invested 2 years, she’s 36 years old and wants to be married and have
children, he supports her financially in some ways and it’s hard to
just walk away from someone who is simply a good person.What do you walk towards?And is it really better to walk into the unknown than stay with something you know?
Even
though I’ve just laid out four really great possibilities of why she’s
still in the relationship, I think it boils down to something deeper.She is on her journey and this is a part of it.Sometimes we think we know the absolute truth in one moment and then the very next moment, we’re questioning our choices.So to leave it at, ‘it’s a journey’ and until we truly know, we don’t’, is a beautiful way to express it.
I really take comfort in her journey because it is mine just the same.I currently live with my boyfriend of two years.When we first met, I really wasn’t looking for a relationship, but for companionship.I
was ending a relationship…well, relationship really isn’t the right
word, but I had been seeing a non-committal guy for the past 4-5 months
and knew it wouldn’t last.I was sad and
frustrated by the fact that it was just sex and a good time, although I
seriously couldn’t see myself being in a long-term relationship with
this man.It’s amazing how the ego can trick us into desiring something although it’s not good for us.
I was the one who started the initial move with my boyfriend Jackson.He was a nice enough guy and was cute, sweet and caring.I remember calling him to invite him out to dinner when I couldn’t get in touch with Mr. Non-Committal.Jackson
was in his car leaving from an event with his fizzling flame and agreed
to meet- he thought it was uncanny that I called in that moment as he
was headed in my direction anyway.
It sort of just happened.I was available.He was available and we made time for each other.It felt really natural to just be in the dance with him.I went with it because I didn’t have a reason not to.We are very different people.I am in search of the true meaning of my life.He is simply in search of a good job to secure a future, have a home and children.I have the resources to travel all over the world and learn about different cultures.He usually doesn’t and when he does, he only wants to go to Hawaii to lounge in the sun.I have aspirations of being an ambassador in our global community.He wants to be the kid’s coach at little league in our own community.I love to dance.He can’t.I’m from a mixed raced background.He’s a white guy.It just goes on and on and I have come to a point where I am questioning (yet again!) if this is truly what I want.
I want someone who thinks about the world, has a definite opinion and articulates his points over dinner conversation.Someone who can teach me about other cultures and live a sophisticated life.I want someone who speaks other languages.I want someone who has at least a master’s degree from a prestigious university.I want someone who’s done internships at major corporations.I want someone who has money and who has a definite plan.After
my older sister’s wedding a few weeks ago, I finally admitted to myself
that I want a black man to insure my connection to black culture.Jackson is not any of this.He could be and to be fair, he is only 28 years old.Well,
he can’t be black, but sometimes I think he’s more connected to black
people than I am- really because he connects with people on a human
level, where as I size folks up based on stereotypes, projections, etc.
(Thank you America, yes, this is sarcasm)
I question the relationship everyday.Is this the man I am going to be with forever?I have grown in more ways than I thought were possible, but is it enough?He has a good heart and always supports me, but is it enough?What do I have to give up to be with this man?A dream?Is that how relationships work?God
made me in this time, as me, with my ideas of what I want out of this
life, yet how much compromise is necessary to be with someone?Truly, up until this very moment, I carried around a ton of shame for even having these thoughts.I
labeled myself an scared asshole for knowing this isn’t what I wanted,
but staying because it was comfortable some days and I didn’t have the
strength to talk with Jackson about it other days.I now know that life is a process.It’s a journey.Who knows what our fate is?Who knows if I’ll recognize something in this, in me, in him and know it’s definitely right?I don’t.And because I don’t and because there is so much good, I am here, in the now. back to top ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
on aging mothers
I thought my mom was laying dead in a pool of her own blood last night.She’s one of those neurotic, obsessive, paranoid menopausal white women living in a neighborhood that’s going through gentrification (although she’s been in the community for 20 plus years) and has run ins with people all the time.She has strong, prideful beliefs about how people should live, about the choices people should make and she really drives hard when those around her don’t align with her vision.
My dad called me last night as I’m watching the amazing game 5 of the Clippers/ Suns series to let me know that he was at the airport getting ready to depart to North Carolina for his weeklong golf trip.He had noticed a piece of paper with the word BITCH scrolled on it on the window of a car parked in front of their house and was concerned.My mother and the neighbors next door have been passive/aggressively battling over lifestyle choices for the last 20 years.She believes the owner of the house allows prostitutes to do their business there.She’s discussed her feelings (probably assumingly and aggressively) with the owner who won’t address this real or imagined problem, she’s called LAPD on numerous occasions and on the regular has confrontational blow outs with the houses residents.
This latest feud is with some pompous black man who drives a metallic monster sized SUV.It’s a centuries old feud- control over another human being.He came into the picture somewhat recently- a lot of folks come in and out of that house.I know when he’s coming down the street because he plays his music obnoxiously loud, like he’s trying to prove something.Kind of like those kids who bump their music so loud that my car vibrates and I begrudgingly roll up my car windows as they pull up next to me waiting at a light.My mom insists on putting out her trashcans (all 5 of them, always full, including the blue recycle and the green yard waste) on Friday afternoon for a Monday morning pick up because she can justifiably control who parks in front of her property for 39% of the time.My parents have a perfectly sized drive way for their cars, yet my mom insists on parking their two cars on the street in front of their house each night when they return home.It’s really an issue, if I come over to visit and I park across the street from their house, my mom will quietly take my car keys out of my purse and go move my car so that it’s holding down a space in front of her house.It’s ridiculous.
So as my dad is expressing his concern from the airport, mind you, waiting to board a plane to go on a golf trip, he’s also asking me, their only child in Los Angeles presently, to make sure I check on my mom.It left me feeling angry.Not at my dad, not at my sisters or brother who are off living their own lives in other cities, but at my mother and her need to start trouble.My dad and I discussed how by her not having anything meaningful going on in her life, she obsesses over the small, irrelevant things she thinks she can control.It scares and saddens me.I am this woman’s child, how far does the fruit really fall from the tree?
My mom is a brilliant woman.She is creative, artistic, scientific- yet she has no real work that she calls her own.It’s not that she couldn’t.It’s that she won’t.Maybe because she made the decision to spend the better part of her life raising four children while needing to work full time, as a hospital administrator, to help support our home; maybe it’s because she is in an unfulfilling relationship with my father but has so much pride and Catholic guilt that she won’t allow herself the opportunity to find true love; maybe it’s because she’s turning 60 this summer and thinks it’s all down hill from this point forward.I can’t say and before this juncture in my life, I always knew the reasons my mom was a weirdo.As I experience life from a 30 year olds perspective, I have softened in my criticism of my mom.Trust me, in no way am I saying I agree with her behavior and choices, but I can empathize and feel compassion for her life process.
My boyfriend and I drove over to my folks house around that/last night to check on my mom because after calling her 15 times with no answer, I became concerned.I hated her in that moment because if she was okay, she was just choosing not to answer the phone.(I can just hear my mom saying:God damn it world!I will control something!)But I needed to go over there just in case; she could have been laying in a pool of her own blood.I tried to prepare myself for the worse- how I would be if I saw her dead, how I would not go over and touch the body, but calmly call 911, how I would remember that everything happens for a reason and that the universe is always leading us to our higher good, how I would not take revenge against the bastardly black man- I had it all planned out.
She was asleep with the TV on.She said she hadn’t heard the phone calls.She said I shouldn’t worry, that it’s no big deal.
If this leaves you feeling cheated, like it was too abrupt an ending, then you know exactly how I felt in that moment of speaking with my mom.I can’t understand her, I have no other choice but to accept her and I left their place feeling like nothing got resolved. back to top ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
on adult children's parents fights My folks had a really powerful *fight* a couple of days ago. I emphasize fight because it wasn’t the normal, yelling, screaming, storming out the room, locking yourself in the bedroom fight, it was an actual communication of what’s really going on for the both of them- which was really refreshing.
I am aware I am in a space of real growth. In the past, I’ve been terrified of their fights because I didn’t have the strength to handle all the pain and suffering that would be thrown about carelessly by the two of them. My only solution to their situation when I was a child, was for them to get a divorce. I mean why put yourselves and us, your children, through all the drama. Mom, you go live there, and dad, you go live there and we’d visit each one, every other weekend. I look back now, and see that that would have been a luxury they both found too expensive…oh, and I am sure, underneath all the screaming, there was love there too.
I then went through the stage of totally detaching from them. It wasn’t because I was so high and mighty and didn’t need to be bothered with their pettiness, I think it was a way for me to totally numb myself because the sensation was too great. Who enjoys being witness to two of the people you love most in the world, destroy each other? I got so frustrated with their process of ‘communication’ that I stopped feeling. Having the choice to turn off from pain, unfortunately turning off pleasure is also a default (turning off pain only comes in one way- to turn off pain, one must turn off all emotions- all or nothing at all theory), or staying open to my parents unbearable pain- I chose to turn off from the pain.
In this last year, I’ve traveled the world, come into myself as a professional singer and opened myself up to that scary world of sensation through communication and sensuality workshops, community living and being in deep relationship myself. My journey into myself has been terrifying and overwhelming and intimidating…and so welcomed. I almost forgot what it felt like to be happy, to be turned on, to be connected to people I love.
So back to the fight. I noticed that I was totally able to stay connected to both my parents while they expressed (rather vaguely and clumsily) to each other and my sister and me what they were feeling, what they desired and how they’ve been hurt (pre-yelling, pre-storming out the room). I noticed that I put myself in a facilitator role and not as their child who is unhealthily attached to the outcome of their experience. It felt great to be someone who could hold a space of compassion, understanding and clarity for both of them and also bring a lightness to such a heavy subject for them. My mom still holds anger towards my dad about things that happened between them over 30 years ago! What kind of hell are they living in? One I do not want to experience in my own relationships.
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on my partner taking a 'pick up women 101' class
What am I supposed to think when my partner tells me he wants to go to a pick up 101 class?
Really?
What for?
He delves into this story of wanting to feel more confident in the world. Of not wanting to be afraid of women when he finds one attractive. Of fearing that he’ll collapse into our relationship, like he’s done in the past, and become a door mat for me to wipe my feet on.
I am scared. Shocked. And stunned. How do I swallow this one? I want him to have exactly what he wants, but not at the expense of my embarrassment, hurt feelings and insecurity. I love him. No doubt. I want him to succeed in the world. And I want to feel like I am not a freak of nature for having my partner actively go out and seek how to pick up other women.
I visited with my married girlfriend yesterday and she asked me where my partner was. I felt too ashamed and embarrassed to tell her, ‘oh, he’s out in the marina with a bunch of single guys learning the in’s and out’s to picking up hot chicks’, so instead I told her he was taking a confidence workshop. It’s true. And a big fat lie at the same time.
We’ve been together for the last year and a half. We’ve never had a conventional relationship and we don’t want one…at least that’s what we tell ourselves. We want the good parts of a conventional relationship where we have a partner who we can be intimate with, share our dreams and desires with and feel support in our every endeavor. We one day want to have children, so it makes sense to be together for that reason too. But with regards to the ‘not so pretty sides’ of a conventional relationship, that’s where we veer off to the ‘unconventional’ road.
So what does ‘unconventional’ entail...besides him going to a pick up 101 class?
It means we express all our desires honestly, when we have the strength to do so. I shared with him recently that I want to be with someone who is creative and of the darker persuasion…okay, black. I said I sometimes desire being with a black man (to my white, jewish partner). Ouch. I know. It means that we aren’t obligated to each other for anything. That everything we do together and for each other is our conscious choice and at any moment, one of us could say, ‘this isn’t what I want in this moment’ and walk away from it all.
I know. How the fuck am I handling all of this so well?
Truth be told. I am not. I feel shitty a lot of the time. I feel sad and I feel victimized. I often go into the story of ‘why is this bastard doing this to me?’, ‘why don’t I have more self esteem to walk away from what feels like constant heartache?’ and underneath all of that, this scarier emotion comes up for me. Turn on. Shit! I don’t want to be turned on by this. What does it all mean?
I think a lot of us get stuck in the stagnancy of our lives. We want someone who is mysterious, but we know every action our partners take from the time they get up in the morning, to the time they go to sleep. It’s often not possible to not know. We live with our partners, we eat with our partners, we zone out…with our partners watching us.
So this idea of having ‘newness’ and ‘excitement’, however that’s defined for you, is the real challenge of relationship. We’re exploring all different ways of doing that. He doesn’t want to collapse into our relationship…and if I am honest, I would hate it and not respect him if he did.
Maybe taking dating classes is not the answer, but it’s part of the journey to the answer…or just a really bad idea…I’ll let you know.
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living a double life.
Living a double life is not normal--yea that just hit me about a week ago. And it hit me right in the middle of the forehead. It's kind of enlightening to want to tell my parents about my boyfriend of two and half years, but at the same time its terrifying. I have some family support, although the support comes from the family "outcasts" who married outside of the culture. I guess I need to lay out the background info on this situation.
I am in a serious relationship with a great guy. I absolutely adore him and he loves me with all his heart. We are seriously the cutest couple ever. We lived together in secret for the last two years, and a couple of months ago we moved back to our parent's houses for financial reasons. So here I am living at my parent's home and my parents have no clue that he exists. The consequences for telling them will be severe. He's White and I'm Indian and they will be so pissed when they find out. I feel like I have to say something though because every single day I am coming up with a new lie to go and see him. And it's getting old. Today for instance, he wants me to have Thanksgiving with his family, but then I have to go see my family too, and now things are kind of a mess because I want to be there for him but my family will be all upset and hostile if I don't go to their thing. And of course I can't go to both because they both start at 2. It's funny how things work out like that. I know I need to stop stressing about this and just find some solutions to everything. I just get so anxious and so overwhelmed.
Ever since I was a little girl I wished that I had a different family. Now that I'm older I've realized that all families are dysfunctional in their own way. Now I just want a family that's more understanding, less critical, less judgmental. I mean is it too much to ask your parents and the evil extended family to just support you? To believe you when you tell them who makes you happy? It would be so simple if I didn't care about their reaction, then I would be able to say fuck it and live my life for me. I guess I feel somewhat obligated to have them in my life because they paid for my education. And my car. Why do people use money as leverage and control? For the last couple of years I started paying for my expenses myself because I didn't want them to have that power over me. Now I just need to save up and move out of their house. For some odd reason I feel like I don't belong with them. But I also feel like they need to be in my life. What an emotional conflict. If my life was a soap opera it would totally win the "Hella Drama for Your Mama" award.
Maybe I should take things day by day. Maybe I can handle living a double life a bit longer.
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on growing up with an angry dad
how long can we blame our problems on our parents? i mean,
at some point, we've gotta take responsibility for our own actions, our own
faults, right? yet, time and time again, i look back at my parents'
relationship and realize how much of that dysfunction seeped into my own way of
thinking and my relationships. my father, a handsome chinese man, married
probably the sweetest, kindest woman alive and began a life with her in
venezuela. they created three girls there before coming to america and adding a
fourth child (a son) to the mix. i'm not sure when harmony was broken but i'm
sure it came around the time my father used to yell and curse at us whenever he
was in disagreement with my mother, essentially blaming us for anything she did
"wrong." his rage would grow to the point of threatening to kick us
out the house and literally dragging us to the front door, as we recoiled in
fear, anger, and total shock. it's amazing how the mind works to protect
itself. had my sister not written about my father raising a butcher's knife to
me in her college acceptance essay, i would never have remembered. in fact, it
took days or weeks to even recall that memory after reading her words. my
mother always acquiesed to him, something i could never understand. she would
inhale the darkest of energies, standing between us in disagreements, but never
taking a side, never protecting her children from evil, although she loved them
dearly and would do anything for them.
because of my father, i was a very angry child inside. this
probably gave me an advantage in karate and other physically demanding ventures
i took on. i would project the same rage he demonstrated. this isn't to say he
did not give me any good experiences; it's just that the more painful ones
cloud the good ones.
so there i was and here i am still, demonstrating my power
as a girl, as a young woman, but i fell captive to two relationships in my
early 20s starkingly similar to that of my parents'. it's truly incredible the
effects of male-female interaction on the children that witness it. even if
they say, "when i grow up, i will do things differently," so much of
what will occur in their future lives is affected by their current
surroundings. in both my relationships, i was the submissive one who took all
the blame and harbored all the hurt. i gave and gave to no end, as my mother
did, and got nothing in return. i never made any demands, never won an argument
or got respect from my partners, even though i had a lot of confidence and
admiration from people around me going into the relationships. without being
aware of it, i was mimicking my mother's role and inviting my father's behavior
in my relationships. as a result, my sense of self-worth veered sharply
downward and it took a long time to recover myself.
today i understand the subtle messages given to children by
their parents through their interaction with eachother as well as with the kids
and i am trying to build a stronger peace and love within myself to share with
those around me, at work and through volunteering, but i still enter into a
place of utter hostility when i see my father. what do you do when he undergoes
surgery and you are there in the recovery room, helping him walk around, get
his exercise, and readjust his tubes but feel absolutely no compassion, no
sympathy?
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i'm falling for a married man
My relationship with the first married man that I have ever been interested in. I feel in love with conversation and the newness of meeting someone. The unfortunate part of all this, I am tainting myself with immoral thoughts and actions. "You can't help who you fall for" ...but as a 25 yr. old single mother who just fell into a 40 yr. olds loneliness....frustrating.
here's my outlet:
A unique experience has enraptured my life. A window of temporary opportunity. I know my head is telling me to discontinue this dangerous attraction, but my heart tells me to breathe it in like oxygen. I'm stuck between the two not knowing where the next day will take me. I can't allow myself to see this as a healthy infatuation. There are circumstances that interrupt the normalcy of this relationship. Circumstances that I, alone, cannot control.
I keep my distance as much as I can... But my heart tells me to kiss him so intensely while the rest of the world swallows us up into its heavenly bliss. I look into his eyes, and the rest of my realities cease to exist. We are alone inside this fantasy that we have created. But ironically, the reality is that this cannot be permanent. I have to go along with this charade that I am content with the boundaries between us. But I will never dare admit that I am losing my heart to him. I will never admit that with every day him and I share, that I am slowly falling more in love with him.
I'm not used to such restrictions, but with him that's all I know. It helps me from being too attached to him vocally. But with this silence that continues to grow more immense with each day, I somehow wonder if that will be the demise of him and I. I hate to think of a finality of between the two of us. But that is a must the he and I will have to face in this lifetime. I just hope that I can walk away from this with a smile on my face and a dance in my heart.
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men just don't understand
i asked for his opinion. what i wanted was his approval. what he gave me was his criticism. grrrr.
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My mother is a selfish widow with a fat new boyfriend As I
approach my 38th birthday, it only takes one email from my mother to
turn me into a spastic 18 year old. She recently asked to take me to
dinner for my birthday, when I responded yes that would be lovely she
in turn responded with “Can we go to Chadwick’s at 1pm because Tom has
a very restricted diet and can only eat certain things at certain
times”. Some background: My father passed away 7 years ago and Tom
is her new boyfriend of one year. She is 62 and he is 60. She has moved
in with him, quit her job and become totally dependent on him. Tom, to
me, is the creepiest thing on the planet. He is overweight and
perverted. He has asked me where I got my sexy shoes. He has touched me
inappropriately. When I told my mother these things she told me not to
make waves. Thank GOD I’m NOT 18….. or 8! She has always put men before
me. Growing up, she was so focused on my dad and brother that I
practically raised myself. She actually thinks she had a hand in my
upbringing and it makes me seethe with anger when she has the nerve to
take credit for the wonderful way I have turned out. No one could have
less to do with this THAN HER. I went through a divorce 2 years ago.
I had an abortion 2 weeks ago because I got pregnant from a man I
barely know. I’m beginning to think my relationship issues are directly
related to watching her let herself get so absorbed by the men in her
life. I’ve been imitating that behavior but it’s not really me; so I’ve
been consistently disappointed. These men don’t respond to me in a way
I want them to because I’m not really showing them the real me. I’m
spending time trying to build them up, or doing whatever they want that
I lose sight of myself. As stated before I am actually very
independent! I’ve been living a relationship lie practically my whole
life. So, as my birthday approaches at least it gives me a sense of
pause to reflect on the past 12 months. I am now strong enough to tell
her that eating at Chadwicks at 1pm isn’t going to work for me. It is
going to open up a huge can of worms with her accusing me of being
selfish. (Something that often happens when I express my own feelings).
I hope I am strong enough to move forward in the dating world and meet
someone who likes me for the face I show them—hopefully I will be able
to show them the real me. It may take some time and I could be at the
end of my rope but I hope I become a Phoenix from these ashes.
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i don't even want him
mother fucker. He doesn't want me and for why should he really. I mean
I wouldn't want him if he wanted me. I love being miserable apparently
because I only seem to like the things I can't have. I don't fucking
know. Of course he believes himself to be better then me. He is an
addict who is clean. It is fucking food. i wouldn't call yourself an
addict. Go shoot something in you arm and then come and talk to me. So
here I am living with the fucker. I want so badly to say fuck off and
at the same time I want his attention. I want him to want me. Come the
fuck in here and pull me out. There is no need to care this much. I
don't even know if I like him. He is simply a guy willing to talk to
me. I am so sick of talking to men. Can we fuck already. Oh no excuse
me. My thighs are too big. You penis can't possibly get hard if if my
stomach isn't the perfect shape. Yeah that is it. Fucker approve of me
already. Apparently I don't want to do the work it takes to do it
myself. Why the fuck can't you approve of me. Love me want me see me. i
feel like medith grey is Grey's anatomy. Love me, pick me, choose me.
For crying out loud. Am I never enough. Do you think you can get any
better then me? Huh. what do you think is out there that is better then
me. Nothing. Fuck go away from me. I am never going to make it. I will
never have anyone. I don't want to go down this road again. I don't
want to be wrong. Intellectually I want to say. Never mind I so don't
need you. I don't want you. We can be friends. What ever. I don't need
you. Fucking don't go down this road again. I was off last time i did
it. Pull it all back in. I can be above it all. Fuck i should just
eat, eat and eat. Eat until I am sure I can't feel anything. My friend
keeps saying she is feeling things all the way through. I don't know if
I believe you. Maybe the other man is the answer. Perhaps these other
men who aren't available will love me enough. What ever, I seem to be
making it worse. i don't want to be this person. I want to be more,
better more real. Fuck all men.
Just before Thankstaking I was invited to a small dinner party at a
friend of a friends house. The friend of a friend who was hosting the
party was a well known rocker. Not being a fan of his music or him in
particular, I actually declined the invitation until my friend begged
that I come with her so she would have someone to talk to. Being that
I have been a recluse since my recent break-up, she pointed out to me
that I “just might meet someone interesting.” That proved to be an
understatement. Upon arriving at this beautiful home for what proved
to be an AMAZING meal, I was introduced to several men and in fact only
one other woman who was there. It was an answer to my prayers. I have
become incredibly disappointed and disenchanted with men and I had
recently been praying that God help me out by sending some nice men my
way. Every man present that night was refreshingly pure gentleman. I
can’t remember ever being in the company of so many nice respectful
men! There was one in particular who stuck out to me when we arrived.
From the moment we were introduced, I felt something stir, but I
cannot tell you how much this man is the antithesis of what I am
ordinarily attracted to- so I while I felt it, I ignored it. He’s
short, and in a shallow way I must admit; I often limit myself to men
who are 6ft tall or better. He is the opposite of what I normally go
for in just about every way imaginable. And I found out later, he’s a
country singer to boot.….I like Garth Brooks, but cowboys aren’t
usually my cup’o tea, ya dig? While I wouldn’t initially go as far as
saying he’s hot, I found myself charmed away from the crowd and engaged
in the most warm authentic genuine curious conversation I have had with
a man in years. I must admit, I have never gone swimming in blue eyes
before, but there I was. For some reason, he was totally captivated by
my being a teacher. I guess he doesn’t encounter “ordinary” people
that often. It was oddly sweet to be so adored as he inquired about
the most random pieces of me. Though I was charmed, I wasn’t sure he
was feelin’ me, I can’t always read the mating calls of white men. So,
I was surprised when he asked for my email (to, as an extension of our
conversation, send me a haiku, which he had never heard of) and slipped
me his. After this delightful conversation he told me he was heading
down south for the holidays and would email me when he got back. I was
even more surprised when he emailed 7 hours later at 9am the next
morning to tell me how much he had enjoyed our conversation the night
before. That started a flirty email dialogue between us that ended
with his asking me in a two-line poem on a date. Normally, I am not a
sucker for such overtures, but I was now smitten. I’ll admit, I had a
great time telling my southern white relatives over Thankstaking that I
had a date with this man-whose concerts they have attended as a family;
always without me, because as I said, his music is not my cup of tea.
While home for the holidays, I daydreamed about what to wear on our
date and where it would take place. All last week, I waited patiently
(never mind I said I would never wait on a man for anything again) for
him to call as he said he would when he returned to town, and here it
is two weeks later and no call. NO CALL! My friends say that I should
remember that he is probably sooooooooo busy, but damn….what gives? I
thought he was as excited as me since he contacted me first and asked
me out, and now here I am in this familiar place again, Wishing I
wasn’t waiting while wishing for a man to call. I am supposed to be
holding myself as precious, knowing that it is his loss if he doesn’t
call, but all I can think of is whether he was performing for me that
night the same way he does for a living. And here I thought God was
giving me the opportunity to restore my faith in men….I'm trying not to
be jaded, but I am so tired of being let down.
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why do i try to make things mean more than they do?
so my ex just sent me a text to tell me that my family and i are in his
prayers since he heard there was a bad storm where i'm from. i haven't
heard from him in weeks, not even over the holiday. in the last
conversation we had, he remained in denial about having a role in our
demise and expressed his anger at me. for almost three weeks now, i
have thought if him less and less and even got that- i'm over it
feeling. until i heard my phone tell me there was a message from him.
all these feelings sprang up and i found myself wanting to make
meaning of his reaching out. why can't i let it be as simple as he was
concerned and wanted to express that. why do i have to make it mean-
he's trying to find an opening to communicate, he misses me and just
can't say so etc....? so what if he does, he lives his whole life in
the shade of denial about his role in causing pain to others. Just
because he misses me, doesn't make him any more capable of loving me
the way i deserve to be loved.
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Why do men have to think something is their idea?
I just love how after three years of my suggesting counseling to my
ex and two years of intense counseling myself, he tells me that his
heart is still open but that the only way he will get back into a
relationship with me is if WE go to therapy. Mind you, he says this
like he invented therapy; like it's some new, novel concept he came up
with to "help us.” On top of that, he says that it is absolutely the
ONLY way he could consider "us" again, but...here's the kicker.... he’s
not quite ready for therapy yet. What the....? Why are we talking
about it then? Someone please help this man...b/c I'm done helping the
helpless. I have been listening to that Keyshia Cole song a lot: #3
“I'm Falling Out of Love With You”....I never thought I would, but he
is making it increasingly easier.
okay! I’m going to give myself some time to be pathetic and moo my
misery away here for a few minutes, and then i'm going to start my day
like to fabulous woman i am on days when i haven't allowed myself to be
devoured by my deferred dreams and current disappointments. shit, after
saying that, i don't even want to elaborate, everything i have to say
is pathetic and redundant anyway. I’m just another young beautiful,
intelligent woman who sells herself short in relationships with men,
allows herself to get distracted from work by their inability to love
me fairly and who drops everything at a dime to give them one more
chance to do it better. this shit is getting old, boring, and
predictable, yet, i do it over and over and over, again. isn't that
the definition of insanity???
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i love him but he's half a world away.
So...falling in love with someone that is half a world away and won't
be back in the states til 2010...he's so focused on his career which I
love BUT he's not wanting...well I say he's not ready for a
relationship... He tells me I'm amazing and he is too. I don't even
know how he feels about me. and that part really hurts, he won't tell
me. not in a million years. He's been hurt before and he's kinda jaded
with the whole love thing. I just need to forget about him.
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my boyfriend made me a miserable old cow.
I am a miserable old cow - however I think my boyfriend made me this
way. I'm 53, I look great for my age and I have a good personality -
however he is grumpy and has the shittiest self-esteem I have EVER
encountered so of course he gives me a hard time, how can he join a
club that would have him as a member????
I'm so DONE.
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he's an email bomber
I want to kvetch
about this because I have been having this really beautiful time with
this lovely man--his biggest fault is that he is a email bandit. He
sends these bombs emails listing out all of his fears until they spiral
downward into hopelessness and then cuts off the relationship suddenly.
Augh. The first 2 I took seriously but by the 3rd email I didn't even
answer. I guess the boy cried wolf 1 too many times. I am so over it.
Hey...great guy....if you are reading this-what is up, man? You can't
email bomb people and expect to stay in relationship-and hey if you
didn't want to be in relationship then-ok-but I don't believe you
because we only get scared about things we really care about. Oh, and
by the way I still think you are a great person-even with this one
fatal flaw. back to top ---------------------------------------------------------------
he thinks he has a magic dick
I have to laugh that the lion share of the posts on this site fall into
the relationship category. At least i know I'm not the only one who
struggles with them. So, here I am miserable again. MOOOOOOOOOO!
This time it could perhaps be blamed on the full moon, that's what a
couple of my friends’ say and the astrology I consult. He, the man I'm
in knots about says it's pms. Another friend says it may be pms, but
all pms is, is a magnifying glass for what we suppress when we are not
pms'ing. I have gotten to the point where i am almost embarrassed to
talk to many of my friends about my situation with this man, because
at 31, I should be mature and self loving enough to just say fuck it.
He doesn't know what he wants, takes me for granted, and is arrogant
and dishonest. Fuck him! But I'm not, I love him, I make excuses for
him, I suffer patiently for him, I want it to work. I want all the
dreams we once shared to matter and not just be the musings of two
people who were new to each other. I feel like I am betraying the
sanctity of those dreams by letting them go, but at the same time, I
can't believe that the gods and goddesses would have my lot in life be
to hold space for our mutual dreams alone. I can't think that they
have it in the stars for me to be taken for granted and spoken to
disrespectfully. He treats me like I am a “typical woman” (as if
that’s a bad thing) because I desire to live together-basically settle
down. The thing that gets me about this though is that, I don’t press
for marriage or kids-just cohabitation. I think that alone makes me
atypical. But let him tell it, my desires are pressure and not
realistic considering all the drama we have been through. Doesn’t he
realize how much of that drama has been about THAT (or other things he
has done to hurt us)?! It sure feels good to have a place to write
about this, besides just my journal. Why am I not the woman who says,
NO MORE?! I will not be taken for granted. I will not play second
fiddle to your indecision, or other women, or your fear that “real”
commitment equals jail. Fuck! Men act like women don’t feel the same
anxiety at settling down. I can’t count how many of them I have heard
talk about how they feel like everything is over for them when they
commit. HELLO! Do they think that they have the magic dick, to make
us never desire other men? OR hell, women for that matter? Last time
I checked they weren’t the only ones making compromises and sacrifices
to be committed. I could go on forever about that. Anyway, it’s
amazing how much better I feel already. All of a sudden, I feel like I
can do anything, if I just recognize that these negative feelings I’m
feeling may be fleeting, may be just my perspective, but will certainly
pass and then I can make a more clear choice about how to handle the
love of my life not loving me the way he said he would when I signed on.
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how can he love me if i can't love myself?
this isn't about a man. it’s about my relationship with myself. i
have come along enough to finally release that which did not serve my
highest good in the form of my ex-boyfriend. i have actually been
divinely blessed with an amazing new friend....who is consistent and
expressive beyond what i ever thought men were capable of and here i am
feeling all nervous and vulnerable....eyeballing the phone when i know
that's a habit that doesn't serve me here. scared that i'm not safe
when he has shown me i am. i'm not soooo mad at me, i just pray that i
can get this loving me thing down pat so someone else can. back to top -------------------------------------------------------
the boring girl gets the boyfriend.
I don't understand why guys don't want to date me. I mean, I see
girls who are frigging like, NOTHING, so plain, they wear crap, they
have nothing interesting to say, they just take up space, and they have
boyfriends. I mean, what the hell? Do guys just not want to make a
fucking effort these days? Losers. How hard is it to say, "hey - you
want to go for a coffee?" I mean, what do they want me to do? Hold up
a sign that says, "I like you. Ask me out." Stupid deadbeat leadheads.
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facing the fact that i want a partner.
i listen to radiohead. it makes me feel.
i'm unsure of what i want to say because everything i write doesn't seem right.
where have i gone?
i am so consumed lately by things that are getting me nowhere in the end.
like this job. like this mind set. this procrastination. i would like to start compiling my book and go with it.
i would like to find a publisher. i would like to cast out my words and
my self worth (as it feels) into the void which is the human mouth.
into the void which is the eyes of everyone looking, hearing, seeing my
being and judging it with everything else around it to make me feel
like i have more worth. its pathetic validation and yes, i eat it. i
let it become what i need. and it is such a bitch to want to be wanted.
to understand what it is like all over again. to know intrinsically
that i want to have a partner again, and then be slapped in the face by
being rejected in total disregard.
nothing in these last few days have mattered to me. i think it is
because i have been attaching my matter and self-worth on what someone
else feels and thinks of me. i think this is the lesson i am learning.
it just makes me feel so sad when someone rejects me. it makes me feel
as if there is a blue stone falling in the center of my chest. it makes
me feel as if something is wrong with me.
subjectively this is probably why i never go for anything. i just wait
around for someone to show interest in me. and half of those people i
do not consider. even someone i mutually love who has shown his
interest for in me for six years. and even countless others who have
let it be known. and what was his deal? this particular guys deal? why
am i always attracted to dick faces? i mean what is really up with this?
i guess this was my naivety.
and ah. i feel so foolish, so fucking foolish to have put myself out there.
but i guess this is why there is room for hope. and this is why it is life and not a cake walk.
but i can get mine and eat it too.
and i guess this is why they make big girl panties.
and luckily i do not wear panties.
but i do appreciate a good metaphor for what it means this situation needs.
nothing makes sense. i get god winks occasionally, but nothing
sticks....am i headed in the wrong direction, in touch with the wrong
desires? who knows? i am not happy. i feel like i am not a broken
record, but rather the broken record player. different albums,
different songs, same broken function....everything skips and repeats.
maybe it's just god bumping the table trying to tell me the party i've
been at is over....old. time to make new friends, or maybe more
specifically a new friend. i'm inclined to say it' s the man i'm
involved with that is the problem, but i stay trying to work it out in
case it is me...i don't even make sense here....
MOOOOOOOOOOOO!
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